<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>we'll keep falling on each other (to fill the empty spaces) by finding</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24897316">we'll keep falling on each other (to fill the empty spaces)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/finding/pseuds/finding'>finding</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i don't want your body (but i hate to think about you with somebody else) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drinking Games, First Kiss, M/M, ricky is lonely and probably needs to go to therapy, soft ej</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:08:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24897316</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/finding/pseuds/finding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ricky looks at EJ—the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his nose, bright blue eyes. “I thought you didn’t kiss.”</p><p>“Just a dare,” EJ says, then adds, “Doesn’t mean anything, okay?”</p><p>“Right,” Ricky says. It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean anything. Because Ricky isn’t gay and EJ doesn’t date and whatever this thing is between them belongs in sunset parking lots and dark corners at parties. Ricky doesn’t get to touch EJ in the light, not when he can see him clearly like this, real and steady right before his eyes.</p><p>or: EJ and Ricky get dared to kiss at a party. It shouldn't be a big deal, right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ricky Bowen/E.J. Caswell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i don't want your body (but i hate to think about you with somebody else) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760380</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>we'll keep falling on each other (to fill the empty spaces)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello all my girls and gays! here’s another addition to the series of ricky and ej being really bad at communicating and even worse at confronting their feelings. they play a game called ‘pizza box’ (the rules are explained in the fic) because it’s one of my friends and i’s favorite drinking games. i really appreciate all your comments and kudos – they motivate me to write because i’m so lazy!! the first story of this series has over 1000 hits, which is super exciting!</p><p>title from affection by between friends</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ricky doesn’t end up going to EJ’s house, or, at least he hasn’t yet. Instead, they fall into this pattern of hooking up after EJ’s shifts at the pool or during theater sleepovers or, more often than not, at parties. Ricky knows he’s fucked, though, when he starts showing up to parties, and the first thing he does is sweep his eyes around the room, hoping to find EJ.</p><p>It’s not his fault, not <em>really,</em> okay? It’s like a Pavlov’s-dog reaction he’s developed over the past few weeks – the heady smell of sweat, the pulse of the bass, the burn of alcohol in his stomach all intertwined with the inexorable rush Ricky feels when he’s around EJ. All the time he spends pre-gaming, playing pong, talking to some girl from his chemistry lab in the kitchen – it’s just a waiting game until he can see EJ, until they can find an empty bathroom or a dark corner in the backyard.</p><p>(There was one time, on a really fucking bad Thursday, that Ricky pulled EJ away as soon as he found him, his fingers like a vice around EJ’s wrist. He pulled EJ down the steps into the basement and pressed him against the wall, didn’t say anything. There was a group of guys ripping bongs like, five feet away, but Ricky really couldn’t bring himself to care because he had a shitty day and already downed four shots of Fireball that only made his headache worse and he <em>really</em> just needed something else to focus on for fifteen minutes.</p><p>“What the hell has gotten into you, Bowen?” EJ asked at one point, his breathing labored. Ricky had brought him off in a few minutes with a tight fist and his teeth sunk into EJ’s shoulder.</p><p>“Don’t know,” Ricky mumbled, wiping his hand off on the side of his jeans. “You want to return the favor, or what?”</p><p>“Calm down,<em> Jesus.</em> You’re fucking needy tonight,” EJ had replied, but there wasn’t a bite to it. Ricky thought he might have sounded <em>worried,</em> and Ricky really didn’t need anyone else looking out for him. Fortunately, EJ didn’t say anything else and proceeded to give Ricky a handjob that had him biting his fist so he didn’t scream.)</p><p>It’s not like Ricky’s having a bad summer, really, it’s just that he’s not super adept at handling change. The last few months of school kind of sucked with him mom leaving and then showing back up again. He thought maybe he’d feel better when he got back together with Nini, but then that ended too. Ricky had expected summer to be a break from everything, but mostly he’s just been bored. Big Red has to split his time between Ashlyn and his best friend. Ricky doesn’t blame him or anything, it’s just a shit situation.</p><p>So, Ricky finds himself alone at a lot of parties these days. He doesn’t particularly like drinking or dancing or whatever they’re supposed to do, but it’s a way to pass the time. He sometimes hangs around Red and the theater kids for a while, but he can only go so long with Nini staring at him with fucking Bambi eyes before he has to escape. Ricky can’t figure out why it bothers him so much—he doesn’t want to get back together with her—but he thinks it might hurt less if he didn’t have to sit around in the living room with them playing drinking games and pretending nothing has changed.</p><p>“Someone get a pizza box from the kitchen!” Carlos calls out from the couch. Everyone gathered around the coffee table gives a half-hearted groan, but none of them make any attempt to get up. It’s nearly 2:00 a.m. and no one really wants to be here anymore, but they’re also too lazy to make the walk back to Carlos’ house where they’re staying the night. “If one of you doesn’t stand up, I’m going to subtly suggest to Miss Jenn that we do <em>Oklahoma. </em>And by suggest, I mean performing the titular song every day until she gives in.”</p><p>“Don’t test him. Carlos is capable of terrifying things,” Seb warns from his spot next to Carlos on the couch.</p><p>“I can do it,” Ricky mumbles, standing up at the exact time that Nini calls out the same phrase. They stare at each other across the room, unsure which one of them should move.</p><p>“I can—” the both start again, and Nini laughs weakly and moves to sit back down on the floor.</p><p>“It’s uh—it’s fine, you can go, Ricky,” Nini says, and Ricky nods in reply. She probably knows he wants to get of this room because Nini might know Ricky better than anyone. Or, at least she did.</p><p>He pushes through a group of people blocking the door and enters the kitchen, which is miraculously quiet. When he walks in, there are only a few people hanging out by the fridge and sitting on the counters. EJ, of course, is there, leaning against a cabinet with his legs swinging off the counter. He has a bottle in his hand, his long fingers wrapped loosely around the neck. Ricky walks over to the table where a few empty pizza boxes are sitting and moves to grab one. In the periphery of his vision, he sees EJ hop off the counter.</p><p>“Hey,” EJ says, putting his hands in his pockets.</p><p>“Hi,” Ricky responds and refuses to make eye contact with him. Something about this night feels different, feels off – he doesn’t want to jump EJ like usual. Ricky’s tired and the thought of Nini in the other room makes his head ache and really, he just wants to lie down in his own bed and fall asleep. He steals a look at the lines of EJ’s body, the way the muscle cords through his arms, his hands, and wonders what it would be like to fall asleep with him.</p><p>(Ricky has good days and bad days. Sometimes he can tell, as soon as he wakes up, that today is <em>bad</em>, through and through. It scares his dad a lot, Ricky knows, when he gets like this—when he refuses to get out of bed, won’t eat, will barely talk to anyone except for Red. It’s not his dad’s fault that he can’t help; Ricky’s mom was always the one would come into his room and pull him onto her chest, stroke his hair and watch <em>It’s Always Sunny </em>with him until he spoke.</p><p>His mom is gone now, though, and Red’s not around as much anymore. Ricky feels lonely more than anything. Sometimes he thinks maybe he should drive his dad’s car up to Colorado, spend a month in the mountains learning how to be alone. He’s never been good at being by himself, always looking for love and affection here he can find it – from his mom, from Red, from Nini, <em>from EJ. </em>Sometimes he thinks he might feel better if he could be happy being by himself. But maybe he should just go to therapy, or something.)</p><p>EJ shifts behind Ricky restlessly, clearing his throat. Ricky grabs the first box he sees and opens it to check if it’s empty.</p><p>“You guys playing pizza box?” EJ asks.</p><p>“Mmm,” Ricky hums in reply. He tucks the box under one arm and then starts opening draws, trying to find a pen. Once he locates a Sharpie that hasn’t completely dried out, he starts to walk back towards the living room. He feels the heavy weight of EJ’s gaze following him as he moves, and it makes him nervous, makes him sweat.</p><p>He’s almost through the doorway when a hand wraps around his wrist. He stops but doesn’t turn around to look at EJ.</p><p>“You mind if I join you guys?” EJ asks.</p><p>“Yeah, whatever you want,” Ricky responds, trying to pull out of EJ’s grip, but he won’t let go. EJ twists Ricky around and tries to force him to look up. Ricky stares staunchly away, his eyes focused on his shoelaces. He doesn’t want to look at EJ because looking at EJ makes him think of <em>touching </em>and <em>wanting </em>and things he doesn’t get to have.</p><p>“Are you okay?” EJ asks, his voice heavy with something that Ricky doesn’t want to acknowledge. “Cause you look like shit, if I’m being honest.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Ricky responds. He doesn’t want EJ asking questions, pretending that he cares about Ricky, acting like there’s something between them. “Can you just let go of me?” he asks quietly.</p><p>EJ looks down at his fingers where they’re still looped around Ricky’s wrist. He looks surprised, almost like he didn’t realize that they were touching. “Yeah, sorry,” EJ says, letting Ricky go. His eyes search Ricky’s face, but apparently he doesn’t find what he’s looking for because he ends up just shaking his head and looking away. “After you,” EJ says, extending an arm to gesture towards the living room.</p><p>“Right,” Ricky mumbles and heads walks through the door with EJ close behind him.</p><p>“Look what the cat dragged in,” Carlos says with an egregious Brooklyn accent, eyes sweeping over EJ, but he has a bright smile on his face. “C’mon, find a place to sit EJ! We’re playing pizza box.”</p><p>EJ looks around the room before settling in front of a recliner that’s occupied by Ashlyn, who has her legs tucked up in the seat. He sits on the ground and leans against the fabric, making himself effortlessly comfortable in the way that only wildly attractive people can. Ricky sits back down by the coffee table and places the box on it, though it’s quickly snatched up by Carlos. From where Ricky is sitting, EJ and him are almost directly facing each other across the room. Ricky doesn’t look at EJ (he doesn’t want to know if EJ is looking at him).</p><p>“Sebastian, my love, would you <em>please </em>explain the rules to all of our guests, here?” Carlos asks sweetly.</p><p>Seb blushes and swats Carlos’ hand away where it’s petting his hair. He leans forward to where the pizza box is unfolded on the table and picks up the sharpie. “Okay girls and gays, here are the rules of the game: Everyone draw a circle and write your name in it. It can be as big or small as you want, depending on how drunk you want to get,” he says, passing the sharpie to a girl sitting to his left. “We’ll go around in a circle—clockwise of course because we aren’t heathens, after all—and each person will flip a coin into the box. If it lands in a circle with someone’s name, they have to drink. If it lands on a blank space, whoever flipped the coin gets to write a new rule; it can be anything. If someone lands on that rule, they have to follow it, or they forfeit and are eternally banished from this legendary game of pizza box. Understood?” </p><p>Everyone nods their head lazily, and Carlos snaps his fingers. “Perk up everyone! Our dear friend Big Red, here, has located a pack of pink lemonade Four Lokos, a handle of Svedka, and a dozen Solo cups. It’s the recipe for a perfect night.”</p><p>Ricky would rather drink lighter fluid than a Four Loko, so he pours a few shots worth of vodka into the cup that Big Red hands him. A few people already have drinks, so they just keep sipping on those rather than taking one of the choice beverages his best friend has supplied. It’s not really fair that EJ gets to drink beer while Ricky gets wasted on shit vodka, but when has life ever treated him fairly?  </p><p>When the marker makes its way to Ricky, he draws a modest-sized circle about the size of the bottom of a glass. There’s only ten of them playing: Ricky, EJ, Red, Ashlyn, Nini, Carlos, Seb, two girls who played extras in the musical, and one bored-looking guy with black hair and cuffed jeans who looks like he could beat the shit out of Ricky.</p><p>Big Red goes first, and he doesn’t even land the coin anywhere close to the box when he flips it. He flushes and mumbles a quick <em>Sorry </em>before trying again and landing it on Nini’s name. Nini smiles and tips back her drink, her cheeks already red from a few hours of drinking.  </p><p>They go around the circle, and the box quickly becomes crowded with rules that range from stupid to obscene. Carlos has to put on his favorite playlist when he lands on a circle labeled <em>karaoke</em>, and every time someone catches him singing along to whatever Broadway hit is playing, he’s forced to drink. Ricky gets unlucky when he lands on <em>death cup</em>, and has to take a drink from every person’s cup in the room (he thinks his chances of getting roofied or contracting Mono are about 50/50). Ashlyn picks Seb to be her partner when she lands on <em>drinking buddies, </em>and they’re forced to drink every time their counterpart does.</p><p>Long story short: they get drunk. Fast. Ricky’s gotta hand it to Carlos that he knows how to raise the mood in a room. They’re all stupid drunk, singing along to <em>In the Heights </em>and laughing when EJ loses a staring contest to one of the extra girls who is able to go without blinking for a scary amount of time. It feels nice, Ricky thinks, like being around family, soft and warm (or maybe that’s just the alcohol talking).</p><p>One of the extras—a petite brunette with freckles and bangs—goes next and lands on <em>koala. </em>Ricky’s not really paying attention, honestly, too busy looking at his hands and trying to figure out how many fingers he has. Every time he gets up to six, he loses count and has to start over.</p><p>“Hey, uh, Ricky?” a soft voice says, breaking his concentration. His head whips up, and the girl—Emily, maybe?—is standing in front of him. Ricky’s vision swims when he looks up, and he narrows his eyes. “I’m supposed to uh, sit on the lap of the…” she trails off.</p><p>“Of the most attractive person in the room,” EJ says lazily. His eyes connect with Ricky’s. “Apparently that’s you, Bowen.”</p><p>“Oh,” Ricky says and continues to stare at EJ. A moment passes.  </p><p>“So can I…?” Emily says, gesturing to Ricky’s lap. He has his legs crossed and is leaning back on the couch.</p><p>“Fuck, sorry. Yeah that’s—” Ricky says, finally looking away from EJ. Before he can really process what’s happening, Emily is wrapping her legs around his waist and looping her arms behind his neck. Their chests are almost flush together, and Emily’s face is only an inch from his.</p><p>“Like a koala,” she says quietly, turning her face away. Ricky looks at the freckles on her cheeks, the flush of her cheeks, the perfect cut of her eyeliner. He wonders when having a girl in his lap stopped doing it for him.</p><p>When Ricky’s turn comes around, he awkwardly reaches around Emily and flips the coin. It lands on Carlos’ name, and he salutes Ricky before taking a shot. His arms ache from having them braced behind him with his palms flat on the floor. So, when he wraps them loosely around Emily’s waist instead, it’s not a big deal, <em>okay? </em>It’s just cause he’s uncomfortable and getting to that stage of being drunk where he’ll pretty much cuddle with any living body. Emily’s wearing a soft yellow t-shirt and her hair smells like strawberries and it really doesn’t mean anything, alright?</p><p>Emily shifts on top of him, and she tries to bring one hand to her face to brush her bangs out of her eyes but that plan is quickly derailed when her bracelet gets stuck in Ricky’s hair.</p><p>“Oh fuck,” she says. She tries to pull her wrist away and ends up just yanking Ricky’s head towards her chest. “Oh my god, I am so sorry.”</p><p>Ricky just laughs warmly and stays still. “It’s okay.”</p><p>Emily leans closer to him and cranes her head around to look at where her wrist is stuck. Ricky can feel her breath on his ear. She starts tugging again, but more gently this time. “I think I’ve almost—” she says, leaning further forward and pushing Ricky against the couch. Ricky puts a hand on her waist to steady her. “Wait, I’ve got it!”</p><p>She pulls back and holds out her wrist triumphantly, a small silver chain with a heart dangling off it. Ricky laughs and picks up his drink. “To Emily and her mad bracelet removing skills!”</p><p>Emily picks up her drink, and they <em>cheers</em> in unison. He downs the rest of his drink, and it barely burns going down. He feels warm and happy and Emily is nice, honestly, and maybe he could get used to this again and—</p><p>“Are you guys done flirting?” EJ’s voice cuts through. “Or are you ready to take your turn, Ricky?”</p><p>Ricky looks up at EJ and pauses for a second before what EJ just said actually registers in his brain. “Did you just call me Ricky? Like, you willingly used my first name?”</p><p>EJ scoffs and rolls his eyes, but Ricky swears he can see a blush creeping up his neck. “Don’t cream yourself, Bowen. You wanna go, or should we kick you out of the game so you and discount Rachel Berry can act like virgins somewhere else?”</p><p>Ricky blinks a few times, and he looks at Big Red. Red looks at him with wide eyes and mouths <em>What the fuck</em> while shaking his head. “Uh, no, it’s okay. I’ll go,” he says, reaching around Emily to grab the quarter off the pizza box. He flips it off his thumb and it lands on the far corner of the box where someone has written <em>love line </em>in neat letters.</p><p>“<em>Love line?” </em>he asks. “What does that mean?”</p><p>Nini leans forward from her spot on the couch and rests her chin in her hand. “You have to kiss the person sitting across from you.”</p><p>“Oh,” Ricky says. “Well, I mean, Emily is like, right in front of me so…”</p><p>“That’s kind of dumb, though,” Carlos huffs. “She’s <em>on </em>you, not in front of you.”</p><p>Emily twists around and looks at Carlos. “Who do you want him to kiss, then?”</p><p>“EJ,” Carlos says simply. He lifts a hand and gestures between Ricky and EJ. “They’re right across from each other.”</p><p>“And it would be kinda hot,” Seb pipes up. Carlos whips around to glare at him. “What? Don’t even pretend you haven’t thought about what two fit high school boys and all that pent-up aggression could mean.”</p><p>“I am <em>shocked </em>that you think I would even consider the thought of anyone kissing but you and me, Sebastian. Absolutely disgusted,” Carlos says, throwing a hand over his chest.</p><p>“Is anyone going to ask me what I want?” EJ says sharply.</p><p>“No!” Carlos and Seb both say in unison. Ricky blinks, and whatever pleading he was about to do dies on his tongue. He’s seen Carlos’ bad side when he fucked up the choreo for <em>Get’cha Head in the Game </em>for the twelfth time, and he really doesn’t want to see it now.</p><p>“If you think I’m going to kiss Bowen then you must be—” EJ starts.</p><p>“Shut the <em>fuck</em> up, EJ,” Ashlyn says and glares down at him. Ricky thinks EJ might have actually <em>withered </em>at the sound of Ashlyn’s voice, but he’s not that surprised. Ashlyn has the power of like, 900 school principals and Michelle Obama combined. “Stop pretending you actually care about whose mouth you stick your tongue into and get it over with. Not all of us here have time for your sexuality crisis.”</p><p>“I—” EJ starts before closing his mouth. He nods instead and tightens his jaw. “Well, c’mon Bowen, let’s get this over with.”</p><p>“What?” Ricky asks. “I’m not going over there. You come here.”</p><p>“You’re the one who fucking landed on it, you should have to move.”</p><p>“Are you kidding me? If anyone should have too—”</p><p>“Well if you haven’t noticed, it’s a little <em>crowded </em>where you’re sitting, Bowen, and unless your little friend wants to join, you better get over—”</p><p>“Boys!” Nini shouts. “Ricky, stop complaining and get up. EJ, shut your fucking mouth. I can promise <em>no one</em> needs to hear anything you have to say. Now let’s be adults about this, yeah?” she says sweetly.</p><p>“Queen,” Carlos says, shaking his head in awe.</p><p>“Whatever,” Ricky mumbles under his breath, and Emily looks at him apologetically as she gets off his lap. He lifts himself off the floor and walks leisurely over to EJ.</p><p>“Take your time, Bowen, really,” EJ drawls. He’s still lounging on the floor with his back to the armchair occupied by Ashlyn. His knees are bent, and he has his arms crossed on top of them, his chin resting on his arms.</p><p>“Eager, much?” Ricky shoots back. He stands in front EJ for a second before sitting down on the edge of the table.</p><p>“Really?” EJ says, scowling up at him. They’re not quite eye-to-eye (EJ’s tall but not <em>that </em>tall), and EJ’s going to have to move to reach Ricky.</p><p>“I came over here,” Ricky challenges. “I think you can move a few inches for me.” He’s not really sure why he’s being so difficult. It wouldn’t be hard for him to sit on the floor, to crowd into EJ’s space, to make him sweat, but he doesn’t want to give in that easily.</p><p>“Fuck you,” EJ says, and Ricky almost smirks. He kind of forgets, sometimes, that no one else knows what’s been happening between them.</p><p>EJ gets on his knees and moves in front of Ricky. He braces his hands on the table on either side of Ricky’s thighs and leans into his space. Suddenly, they’re only inches apart, EJ’s blue eyes staring into his.</p><p>Ricky’s been so caught up in the game and the tension between EJ and him that he kind of forgot that they have to <em>kiss. </em>Ricky’s not sure how he got himself into this situation, really. He thinks maybe a month ago he could’ve laughed about this—him and EJ pressing their mouths together quickly before pulling back, disgusted and laughing. Now, though, he’s not so sure. Somehow, in a month, having EJ this close to him means some more, a <em>kiss</em> means something more.</p><p>“Anytime now!” Carlos calls out, but Ricky barely hears him. He kind of can’t hear anything except for the sound of his pulse.</p><p>“Hey, Bowen, this okay?” EJ asks quietly, eyes searching Ricky’s face. His hand finds Ricky’s thigh and squeezes it. He doesn’t know why EJ is being kind to him. He doesn’t <em>want </em>EJ to be kind to him.</p><p>“Yeah,” Ricky replies, his voice a whisper. He looks at EJ—the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his nose, his <em>eyes</em>. “I thought you didn’t kiss.”</p><p>“Just a dare,” EJ says, then adds, “Doesn’t mean anything, okay?”</p><p>“Right,” Ricky says. It doesn’t mean anything. It <em>can’t </em>mean anything. Because Ricky isn’t gay and EJ doesn’t date and whatever this <em>thing </em>is between them belongs in sunset parking lots and dark corners at parties. Ricky doesn’t get to touch EJ in the light, not when he can see him clearly like this, real and steady right before his eyes.</p><p>EJ leans forward, his nose bumping against Ricky’s. Their lips are nearly touching, only a breath between them. EJ’s eyes are closed—should Ricky’s be closed too? He’s not really sure what’s he’s doing, just knows that he doesn’t think his heart should be beating this fast.</p><p>When their lips touch, Ricky expects it to feel like something <em>more</em>, something explosive, maybe. It’s just a kiss though, one like he’s had a hundred times before. But—no—that’s not right—because when he feels the press of EJ’s lips to his, soft and dry, every single thought leaves his brain. He feels calm, centered, anchored in a way that he doesn’t understand.</p><p>(Sometimes with EJ it’s like that—slow and soft and calm. The first time it happened like that was in the backyard at a party at some girl’s ranch house just outside of town. There was a pond in the backyard, and they stumbled out onto the dock, took their shoes off and dangled their legs into the water.</p><p>Ricky laid back on the wood, at one point, was staring at the stars because you could actually see them out here, far enough away from the city. Sometimes he would look at EJ, too, a shadow against the bright night sky. He wondered, if he would always end up looking at EJ like this—a dark imprint, an outline, something he couldn’t grasp.</p><p>At one point, he reached out a hand, found the soft material of EJ’s flannel, pulled him down wordlessly. Their bodies fit together, EJ pressing him into the wood, moving slow and quiet and <em>warm </em>until Ricky saw stars.</p><p>Later, when Red drives him home, he watches the flat New Mexico landscape fly past. The stars blur together into until they disappear altogether, replaced by streetlights and skyscrapers. But the imprint of EJ’s fingers is still burned into his hipbones, pinpricks of light across his body where he’s been touched, and he’s not sure how much longer this can go on, how much more he can take from EJ before it ruins them both.)</p><p>EJ kisses him, and it doesn’t feel like a supernova, doesn’t feel passionate or mind-blowing, and that might be what scares Ricky the most. Because he write that off as a hookup, as fucking around because it makes him feel alive, but <em>this</em> doesn’t feel like a hookup anymore. EJ’s hands have found his face, are cradling the line of his jaw, and Ricky melts into him. His legs fall open, his hands locking onto EJ’s waist, and Ricky pulls him forward until their bodies are flush.</p><p>Then EJ’s pressing his tongue into Ricky’s mouth, and Ricky forgot that kissing could feel like this. He lets out a small gasp, lets his lips part, lets EJ take control because he wants to give himself over to EJ. He wants to let himself be taken apart, to be taken care of.</p><p>It feels good, so fucking impossibly good that Ricky doesn’t really know if it’s real: the way EJ’s thumb is stroking his cheek, the smell of beer and something muskier, something cleaner on EJ’s skin, the feeling of EJ’s bone under his palms. It feels so impossibly good that Ricky thinks it can’t possibly be his, feels like he took it out of a dream or someone else’s life.</p><p>It feels like this because it’s stolen time, he thinks with unmistakable clarity. It feels like it isn’t his because it <em>isn’t</em>, because whatever is happening between them isn’t real, <em>can’t </em>be real. And so Ricky lets EJ lick into his mouth, lets him tangle his fingers in his hair, and then, he puts his hands on EJ’s shoulders and pushes him away.</p><p>“Stop,” Ricky says quietly, turning his head away. “Stop, EJ.”</p><p>EJ opens his eyes, startled, still looking at bit dazed from their kiss. He looks around the room at all their friends, most of who are staring at them, mouths agape. Nini’s blushing, and Red looks at Ricky incredulously.</p><p>“Okay, so <em>not </em>what I was expecting,” Carlos says, breaking the silence. No one says anything for a moment, so Carlos claps his hands together and picks up the coin. “I’ll go next!”</p><p>Ricky can’t really remember what happens after that. Somehow, he ends up back in his spot on by the coffee table, but he doesn’t pay attention to the game. EJ tries to crack some jokes and revert into his fuckboy persona, but Ricky can see through it. EJ looks as rattled as Ricky feels.</p><p>Later, Ricky stands on the porch and waits for Big Red to pull the car up. It’s strangely cold outside, and he tries to warm his bare arms with his hands.</p><p>“You should bring a jacket,” a voice says behind him. It’s EJ because of <em>course </em>it’s EJ.</p><p>“I don’t really want to do this right now,” Ricky says, refusing to look at EJ.</p><p>“Just—just take this, Ricky,” EJ says, and he holds out a jacket in front of Ricky. Ricky doesn’t look at him, just wordlessly takes the jacket and folds it over his arms. “I’ll see you around,” EJ says and then walks back into the house.</p><p>Ricky shrugs the jacket over his shoulders—it’s heavy, and Ricky realizes, with a lump in his throat, that this is EJ’s varsity jacket. It’s too big on Ricky’s frame, rests awkwardly on his shoulders, but he shoves his hands into the pockets and starts walking down the driveway.</p><p>He texts Red that he’s going to walk home instead of staying the night at Carlos' with the rest of them. He starts in the direction he hopes his neighborhood is in and looks up at the sky as he walks along the side of the road. There’s not a single star out tonight.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>